In The Darkness, A Cherry Blossom Falls
by VivaGlam
Summary: Weapon X's best assasin since the era of Wolverine and Sabertooth has appeared in Bayville to tie up some loose ends for them. What will happen when the X-Men have to fight against this formidable foe? Starring Psylocke. Chapter 4 uploaded.
1. Default Chapter

In The Darkness, A Cherry Blossom Falls  
  
By Vfgirl  
  
My first fic.. Hope that u guys liked it. r&r, pls, ok? As for who this is about, I'm not gonna say. Oh, but this is waayyy AU, and I'm twisting a lot of stuff around to suit the story, so it definitely won't match the background of the character established by the comics. And, enjoy!  
  
Prologue  
  
It was five minutes past midnight. The full moon shone full and bright whilst the harsh neon lights of the city fought with it, vainly seeking to wrestle away some of its splendor. Down in the city, the streets were filled with people who didn't want to be found, people who sought to be left alone. They ranged from thin, skeletal looking drug addicts to some of China's most wanted, all looking to have a good, anonymous night on the town.  
  
A still figure sat motionless in an alley, bundled in its pitiful, dirty scraps of cloth, trying to shield itself from some of the brisk autumn air. It had been sitting there for the past 5 nights, still and quiet, staying out of the way of everybody else. The first night she had sat at the alley, the tramps and addicts had tried chatting to her, but then they discovered that she spoke absolutely no Chinese at all, and there was something about her, the way her piercing gaze seemed to bore into you, and the way that she reeked of. danger, that was just. off-putting. So after a few days, they vacated the alley, and let her have it to herself.  
  
As for the people walking past, they paid no head to the person sitting there. They were scum, but it was so much worse than they were, without money or even shelter, reeking of smoke, beer, and body odor. It was a pitiful, insignificant thing, not posing any threat nor holding any possible gain to them, and therefore not worth even a brief glance it's way. They saw her, but they did not notice her.  
  
And that was exactly what she had planned.  
  
The cold easily penetrated the odorous rags that she wore, but she was impervious to it, calling upon years of training to keep away the chill, resisting the temptation to shiver and shake. All thoughts were focused on the assignment at hand. Nothing else mattered, not even the chill that had permeated the very core of her being. Everything was the here, everything was the now. That was all that was important.  
  
It didn't matter how many times she'd sat in an alley just like this one, waiting for her target, or how many times she'd been in different countries doing the exact same thing - it never got any more pleasant. And as far as this particular part of China was concerned, it was just as seedy, disreputable and distasteful as any other dirty little corner in any other city in any other part of the world. But that didn't matter. Only the here and the now mattered.  
  
A rare smiled flitted across her features, faint humor registering deep in her dark mind. People, she mused with vague interest, were incredibly strange creatures. On one hand, they were capable of the most grotesque, unbelievably cruel deeds, and yet some were capable of the most selfless acts of giving, sacrifice, and love. She would know. The sole purpose of her existence was to kill people.  
  
Just then, her head snapped up, as if her ears had picked up some phantom sound. Her eyes were alert, and she extended her senses out to see who was coming. Sure enough, a few seconds later, footsteps echoed on the concrete as four men made their way down the alley. One by one, they stepped over the limp, unmoving bundle of cloth lying in their way. One of them kicked it, muttering "Stupid tramp" as they walked past. After they had walked some distance away, two of them moved further into the shadows, beginning their transaction, whilst the other two took out their AK-47's and stood guard.  
  
It was here. It was NOW.  
  
The bundle stood up swiftly. Two pink throwing knives suddenly appeared in her hand, and she threw them with deadly accuracy. They hit both guards square in the forehead, and both slumped noiselessly to the ground. The two men further back were quietly talking amongst themselves, when they looked up and saw the two guards slumped on the floor. Looking up at each other, clearly frightened, they started to make a break for it.  
  
Before they could even go 3 feet, a ghostly phantom swooped down from above, landing on one of them, causing him to fall down. A pink katana appeared in her hands, and she stabbed downwards in one swift, brutal strike, using her foot to snap his back and the katana to break his neck in one deadly move.  
  
Here.  
  
Split seconds later, she launched her into a sprint towards the other target, covering the distance between them with deadly speed. Leaping forward, she placed her hands on the frightened man's shoulders, using him as leverage to flip over and in front of him. Landing lightly, she spun around and held her katana out behind her, its deadly point glinting in the garish lights of the shops nearby. Unable to stop himself in time, he ran straight into her katana, impaling himself upon it, and died instantly.  
  
Now.  
  
It was over. Just as suddenly as her deadly blade had come into being, it disappeared. Having nothing else to hold him up, the dead man slumped to the ground, the blood pooling around his lifeless body. She surveyed the destruction dispassionately, and then turned around and left the alley.  
  
Reaching into her coat pocket, she pulled out a small device. Turning it on, she looked into it, and talked to the face of a man dressed in unidentifiable military fatigues that had appeared on the small LCD screen. "I'm done."  
  
He snorted. "It's about time. Head to the location. You'll be coming back here. I have a new assignment for you."  
  
After the operative had severed the connection, the officer turned to one of his assistants, also dressed in military fatigues.  
  
"Get ready, Lt. Wraith. Psylocke's coming back to Weapon X HQ."  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The sun was just beginning to rise, the first rays of pink and orange light peeking out over the h 


	2. Chapter 1: Operation:Remnants

In The Darkness, A Cherry Blossom Falls  
  
By VFgirl  
  
Sorry that this chapter took so long to get out. I'm having my finals right now, and I'm kind of a perfectionist when it comes to these stories, and I wrote, rewrote, and tweaked it quite a few times to make sure it turned out just right. (  
  
Been reading the reviews, thanks for the encouragement, it's been great. And regarding that pink katana thing- I thought her katana was pink- right? * puzzled look * I don't really bother to follow the comics, but I thought her katana was pink. Oh well. Although you're right. The color is rather incongruous, isn't it? (  
  
Oya, forgot to write that whole copyright thing. Not making any $, blah blah blah. And there's one line that I got from the latest Elektra- Wolverine graphic novel that I loved so much, I just had to put it in here. So that's not mine either.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The person he was supposed to ferry had arrived just 5 minutes after 10. Lt. Jamie Patterson had just gotten back from flying the entire night, and he'd been about ready to change out when his commanding officer had come in, ordered him to get back out to his Black Hawk and fly some operative out to a top secret location some distance away. Irritated and annoyed, he pulled his helmet back on and headed out to the helipad. He wanted to get back home, take a good long shower and get into bed. Life as a helicopter pilot was hard enough without having to bother with last minute escort flights for stupid James Bond wannabe agents on who knew what missions to save the world.  
  
He climbed into his pilot's seat, strapped in, and turned around, about to order his passenger to do the same, when he caught sight of her and did a double take. Not wanting to be rude, he turned back around, started up the engine and they were up in the air. Unable to help himself, he turned his head around to glance yet again at the girl behind him.  
  
She was sitting delicately on the edge of her seat, the wind snatching at the deep indigo hair that had been tied into a loose braid. The commander had informed him that he was to fly an operative out to a certain location, but he certainly had not expected to see somebody like, well, her. She was not dressed in a military uniform, but a severe looking black jumpsuit that concealed much of the curves that he was sure were underneath those layers of cloth.  
  
He started to rack his brain for something to say. He had to strike up a conversation. This was just too good an opportunity to pass up. Perhaps she was a little tall, and perhaps a little too broad across the shoulders, but her face was to die for, and her indigo hair seemed to catch the light, and then to destroy it.  
  
Psylocke watched the young lieutenant fluster, faintly amused with the whole situation. It was not necessary for one to be a telepath to realize that he wanted to chat her up, but was too shy to do so. Memories rose in her mind, memories of a life she had led ages ago. Feeling a wave of nostalgia and a pang of sadness, she gave in to a moment of weakness, and her thoughts went back to a time when she would have given an arm and a leg to have a boy this flustered over how to talk to her.  
  
She wondered what his reaction would be if he discovered that she was only 16. That was enough. She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind. Time to set the stage for her exit.  
  
"You had better pay attention to flying the helicopter before you crash and kill the both of us." She teased the pilot. Her voice was not raised one notch, and yet Patterson had absolutely no problem hearing her over the constant churning of the helicopter blades. One did not merely hear her voice, one felt it as well. It was rich and velvety, but at the same time, tempered with the crispness of her British accent.  
  
Utterly mesmerized, he stuttered out the first answer he could think of. "Y- yes, Madam."  
  
All was going according to plan- so far. "How old are you, Lieutenant?" She asked, making small talk.  
  
"Erm. 20, Madam."  
  
She leaned forward, letting her warm breath brush the back of his neck. "It's Miss, Lieutenant."  
  
His hand shook as his concentration wavered, and the nose of the helicopter took a sudden dive. He quickly brought the copter back up, shaken and shivering. He swallowed. "Yes, Miss."  
  
She moved closer, leaning forward some more. "Concentration wavering, Lieutenant?" He was unaware of Psylocke looking over his shoulder at the radar screen, and mentally noting their current location.  
  
"Erm. No, Miss." He gulped down some more air, body shaking and perspiring from his nervousness and arousal.  
  
"Good. I wouldn't want to have your military career going down the drain in just one night." She purred. Her arm was reaching out to the side, and her hand was slowly working to unlock the door, and then to undo the seatbelt buckle.  
  
She was just about ready to leave, when she took one look at the poor sweating Lieutenant, and, for the first time in what seemed like eons, she felt for the poor Lieutenant, and took pity on him. It was rather upsetting, having to be manipulated this way. On impulse, she reached forward, and gently grasped his chin in her hand. Turning his face to hers, she kissed him, gently, on the lips.  
  
Goodbye, Lieutenant. She whispered into his mind.  
  
She then opened the door, and she felt the wind grab at her, the strong push of the air like an invisible hand at her back.  
  
"Goodbye." Murmured Patterson. Then he snapped back to reality. "Wait- Goodbye?!"  
  
Psylocke gave herself to the wind, and leaped out into the night.  
  
A few seconds later, she landed lightly on the ground in the middle of the forest. Working quickly, she shed the heavy black jumpsuit that she was wearing, revealing the modified gi that she was wearing. High necked, it was cut off at the shoulders and high on her hips, allowing her maximum freedom of movement, while the intact sleeves and leggings remained, allowing her to keep warm.  
  
Cocking her head, she paused for a moment, then walked out of the small clearing, and found herself at the edge of a deserted road. She spotted a sign not far away, and walked over to it.  
  
WELCOME TO BAYVILLE.  
  
"Very well then. Operation: Remnants had begun." 


	3. Chapter 2: On to Bayville High

In The Darkness, A Cherry Blossom Falls  
  
By Vfgirl  
  
Here's the second chapter! If the 'situation' that they found themselves in seemed familiar, that's because I had originally planned for it to revolve around one of the scenes in the XE shows. But then I got confused and realized that it wouldn't make sense, so I tried to change it, only to find out that it didn't really make all that much sense. So forgive me for that one.  
  
And sorry it took so long, I was trying to figure out how exactly the story should have unfolded from the last chapter. And as usual, I don't own the characters, blah blah blah.  
  
And one more thing (it's the last one, I promise) a person like me just LIVES on reviews, so be sure to do so! Good feedback gives me more motivation to churn chapters out faster * hint, hint *  
  
Chapter 2  
  
The old Mustang roared, shooting forward as its driver stepped hard on the accelerator. The wind whipped through the teenager's hair, roughhousing with it before tossing it every which way. Ordinarily, Scott Summers would have been thrilled with the adrenaline rush that accompanied the amazing acceleration on his equally amazing car, but today was not ordinary.  
  
Not that there was anything really normal about Scott Summers.  
  
His fingers tapped impatiently as he eased the car into a comfortable 60 mph. His brows were knitted together, and frustration tugged the edges of his lips down into a frown. With his car, expensive clothes, and outstanding good looks, he would have made an impression on anybody, but one particular feature always made their mark on people. His eyes. There was nothing really impressive with his eyes per se, but rather, the inability to see them. For Scott Summers always wore a pair of red shades. Always.  
  
Sitting in the back seat of his Mustang were two other teenagers. The girl on the left was lightly built, with large blue eyes, a sweet smile, and a ponytail tied up high on her head. The boy on the right had shoulder length black hair, dark eyes sparkling with mischief, and a large smile stretched across his face. Their good mood proved a sharp contrast to their driver's dark one.  
  
Noticing the driver's obvious lack of good humor, the girl leaned forward and put her hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Scott, come on. Just because Duncan managed to ask Jean to the dance first doesn't mean that she didn't like, want to go with you."  
  
Scott's other passenger leaned back, and stretched his arms. "Ya, man." He agreed. A strong German accent tinged his speech. "He just got to her first. Besides, do you really want to let Duncan spoil your mood?"  
  
That managed to get a small smile out of Scott. "I suppose you're right, Kurt. And thanks for trying to lift my mood, Kitty. I-" He was about to say more, when he frowned, his black mood returning once more. "Oh, great, just what we needed. A traffic jam."  
  
The once clear road in front of them was now packed with cars lined up bumper to bumper. "What's going on?" asked Kitty. She stood up, trying to peer over the other cars to get a good look at what was causing the traffic jam.  
  
"Who knows?" grumbled Scott. "There's nothing we can do except sit here and wait for the traffic to clear."  
  
Kurt frowned, and leaned forward to turn on the radio. "Maybe the traffic report vill tell us the cause of the traffic jam." There was a crackle of static on the old radio, and then it came to life. Sure enough, the traffic report came on.  
  
"-And it seems that the slowing of traffic in downtown Bayville near the junction of 16th Ave. and Monument Road is due to a delicate situation involving a kidnapping attempt upon Bayville mayor Jason Avery. Apparently, somebody has attempted to take the Mayor hostage in his car after his press conference at City Hall, and is being pursued by the police at this very moment. The police, in an attempt to capture the fugitive, have blocked off a whole stretch of the northern side of 16th Avenue in order to corner the assassin and to force him to hand over the mayor.  
  
"16th and Monument?" repeated Kitty. "That's just, like, over there." Then, she gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. "Oh no! It looks really bad."  
  
"Vhere?!" asked Kurt, standing up in an attempt to see over Kitty's head. "Scott! It really does look like trouble. Should ve step in?"  
  
Instantly, Scott changed. Gone was the look of youthful sulkiness and frustration. In it's stead was an air of authority that had not been there before. His chin came up, and his shoulders went back, straightening his posture. His entire look was altered. It was a metamorphosis, changing him from Scott Summers the Teenager to Cyclops, the X-Man. "Let me take a look."  
  
Both Kitty and Kurt sat down, allowing him to take in the drama that was happening a mere 100 yards away. Even at first glance, the situation that he took in was not optimistic. The police had formed a blockade, using several cars to obstruct the road. Several of them were crouched behind their cars, holding up their weapons, whilst a few others were surrounding the fugitive and his getaway car.  
  
"Let the mayor go!" ordered an officer through a megaphone. "Surrender this instant, and we will be able to negotiate!"  
  
In answer, the kidnapper fired a shot out of the window. It was obvious he was not in the mood to negotiate. "Well, Scott?" asked Kitty, concern obvious in her voice.  
  
He stood, looking at the situation. The truth was, the situation was not dire enough to risk revealing their identity over. Yet, his morals dictated that he should step in, and prevent the criminal from getting away with something like this.  
  
It was during times like this that he regretted being the leader. Being the leader did not just mean that he was the first to rush into battle, or the person to give orders, or to take the glory for whatever good the team accomplished. It also meant making decisions on behalf of the team and accepting any and all possible consequences, and being willing to take responsibility for it, no matter what happened. That meant that he had to do this even if somebody he was responsible for was to get hurt. It also meant making decisions that people would not always be pleased with.  
  
Kurt and Kitty were not going to like his decision.  
  
"No. Not-" The car suddenly accelerated, heading in a suicide run towards the blockade of cars, and towards the mass of onlookers packed behind it. "Cover me!" He yelled.  
  
He then pulled down his shades, and the reality of why Scott Summers always wore red shades was revealed. 2 powerful beams of energy blasted from his eyes, swelling at their newfound freedom. The beams hit the front of the car when it was just feet away from the blockade, slamming the car with enough force to send it into a tailspin.  
  
"Nightcrawler, evacuate the kidnapper and the mayor!" commanded Scott, watching the car spin towards the nearest building, whilst replacing his shades.  
  
"Ja!" There was the sound of a small implosion as Nightcrawler disappeared, turning the immediate area into a mini-vacuum, and simultaneously leaving the surrounding air reeking of sulfur and brimstone. He teleported into the backseat car of the car, behind the mayor and the kidnapper, and grabbed them before teleporting out again.  
  
Mere seconds before the car slammed into the building, Nightcrawler reappeared behind a tree in a nearby park located on the opposite side of the road, and laid the mayor down. He then teleported up again into the same tree, and left the kidnapper behind, before teleporting once more, this time into the backseat of Cyclops's car.  
  
Kitty stood up and yelled, "There he is!" while pointing at the tree, where the stranded kidnapper was desperately trying to climb down. The police reacted instantly, pointing their guns at him, shouts of "Freeze!" and "Don't move a muscle!" echoing through the area.  
  
As the police closed in on the doomed kidnapper, the onlookers fascinated with the proceedings, nobody noticed the three teenagers slumping down into the car, slowly melting through the seats and into the road underneath the Mustang. By the time things had quieted down, and people wondered who exactly those three strange teenagers in the flashy red Mustang were, there was no trace of them at all.  
  
They'd simply disappeared.  
  
Deep inside the park, away from all the traffic and bystanders, Scott, Kurt and Kitty surfaced from the ground into which they'd melted into about a 300 yards away. Kitty gasped for air, taking in deep breaths, replenishing the air supply in her starved lungs, and Scott did the same, while Kurt simply lay there, too fatigued to even get up and move.  
  
Atop a building nearby, Psylocke stood, surveying all that had just happened. Seeing the kidnapper, she snorted, shaking her head. "Amateur."  
  
There was something to be said for courage, but blind courage was foolishness, and this idiot had plenty of both. From the moment that he'd grabbed the mayor and made a run for it, Psylocke knew that he was doomed to fail. She was faintly surprised to see that he'd even gotten this far.  
  
It seemed as though there was something to be said for blind luck as well.  
  
Turning her attention back to the three teenagers, she surveyed them with intense interest. They were obviously mutants. Reaching out a tentative telepathic probe, she came up against a telepathic shield. Well. It seemed as if these mutants had a telepath amongst them to assist in such matters. No matter. All she needed was one small piece of information.  
  
She felt up and down the mental wall, trying to find a crack. After a few seconds, she found a chink in the girl's shield. Prying it open, she inched in and felt around, until she came up with the name of their school- Bayville High.  
  
She withdrew quickly, seconds before the girl could pinpoint her location, and turned to leave the rooftop. The girl would have sensed her by now, and she wanted to leave before she got suspicious. It was unlikely that she would put two and two together, but Psylocke was too much of a professional, and far too experienced to take such unnecessary chances.  
  
Kitty felt a slight probing sensation in her mind, and flinched. Getting up quickly, she looked around, all the while reinforcing the telepathic shields that the Professor had taught her to put up. But just as she was reinforcing the shields, the sensation she'd had before was gone.  
  
The exhausted Kurt looked at Kitty. "Vhat's vrong, Kitty?"  
  
She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ears, and continued to survey the area. "It's nothing. I just thought that like, I felt somebody doing a mental probe in my mind."  
  
Scott sat up, and looked at Kitty, concern apparent on his face. "Are you sure? We'd better tell the Professor what happened, then. They could find out about our secret if they'd done a probe."  
  
"No, it's nothing. It was so fast, I'm not even sure that somebody really was, like, searching through my mind. It could've been my imagination, for all I really know."  
  
"I still think that we should tell the Professor. It's too much of a risk to not tell him." The insistence in Scott's voice was obvious.  
  
She shook her head emphatically. Ever the concerned leader, wasn't he? "No, really, it's ok. I don't want him to get worried. It was probably just me hallucinating."  
  
Scott frowned. He didn't like it when Kitty just tried to brush the whole thing off. Such risks shouldn't be taken- even if it was nothing, they should still let the Professor know. But out of respect for Kitty's wishes, he let it go.  
  
"C'mon, let's call somebody to come pick us up. The tow truck will get the car. It's too dangerous to go back to it now." The three of them got up, and then headed towards the edge of the forest, ready to get a ride home.  
  
Psylocke crossed the street, taking in the damage done by the kidnapper and the three young mutants. The next phase of Operation: Remnants had just begun, and she had just received her next clue- Bayville High.  
  
It seemed as though this time around, she might actually get to spend some time around people her age. 


	4. Chapter 3: Worries

In The Darkness, A Cherry Blossom Falls  
  
By Vfgirl  
  
Here's the third chapter. I'm afraid that this one's rather short. I had meant it to be at the beginning of the 2nd chapter, but found that it worked better by itself.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
It was night. The cool air whispered through the branches of the trees, intermingling with the sounds of the crickets and bullfrogs in the garden of the Xavier Institute. The entire mansion was quiet, and not a single person was awake. Suddenly, a single pained shout punctuated the stillness of the night air.  
  
Inside, the man known only as Logan thrashed around, twisting and turning, growling and snarling, face twisted into a pained grimace. He tossed once more, kicking one last time before flinging the blanket off himself and waking up. Eyes that were normally hooded and suspicious were now filled with an uncharacteristically visible fear. He scanned the room once or twice, fighting off the animal instinct to run off into the night and hide until the danger was over.  
  
He raised his arm to wipe off the layer of cold sweat on his forehead, doing his best to take in deep calming breaths. Common sense told him that it was just a dream, but gut instinct knew better. Getting up, he pulled on a pair of well-worn jeans and a loose flannel shirt, and walked to the door. He had to talk to Chuck about this one.  
  
Professor Charles Xavier rested his elbows on the armrests of his wheelchair, and steepled his fingers together, staring intently at the space in front of him. His brow was knitted in concentration, as he thought about what Logan had come barging in here to tell him mere moments ago. He took one more look at the man in question, and frowned.  
  
Logan was pacing up and down, the atmosphere surrounding the feral man positively crackling with tension. And yet, there was something different about Logan this time, a certain look in his eyes that worried Xavier greatly. He hadn't been able to pinpoint it exactly, but the answer came to him as suddenly as Logan had barreled into his room tonight.  
  
Fear.  
  
This was the man whose truly sinister past was known to only a select few, the man whose codename was Wolverine, fearsome beast of the forest, the man who, if possible, truly lived up to his namesake, fearless, and practically indestructible, with his healing abilities and adamantium skeleton. And yet, here he was, fearful for his own life, after a dream that he had had just minutes ago.  
  
"What happened, Logan?" asked the Professor. "What's got you so upset?"  
  
Logan stopped his restless pacing, and leveled his intense gaze at Charles. "These dreams, Charles. They're coming back. Hell, they wouldn't even bother me, if it ain't for the fact that I've just got the feelin' that trouble's brewin'." He then returned back to his relentless pacing, up and down, up and down, up and down.  
  
That was a statement not without its truths. Logan had a past so terrible that Charles actually considered it a blessing that he didn't remember much of it. Despite numerous memory wipes during his rather shadowy experiences, much of those memories remained embedded in his subconscious, and he was still constantly haunted with nightmares. Such occurrences were normal for him.  
  
So what was so special about this particular dream that it would force Logan to come looking for Charles? "You're thinking that your past might come back to haunt you." It wasn't a question; so much as it was a statement.  
  
"Not just anything about my past, Chuck." He stopped again, and this time, the fear in his eyes was unmistakable. "Weapon X."  
  
The shock hit Xavier like a strong blow to his chest. He would have reeled from it if he had not been sitting in a wheelchair. "Are you sure, my friend?" The concern in his voice was unmistakable. "If it is, then the consequences of your dream would be much more dire than I had feared."  
  
"I wouldn't have woken you up if I wasn't, Charles." He paused, and Charles waited, letting him take his time. Those were painful memories, and it was difficult for his close friend to recall them. "I wish I can say that it's nothin', but all those years of training wouldn't let me. I've been taught all m' life to obey my gut instincts, and these instincts, and that dream I just had, tell me that they're comin' for me."  
  
All the possibilities of what might happen if what Logan said were true about Weapon X ran through his mind, and it was all he could do to suppress a shudder. The feral man never missed anything, and he caught the fleeting glimpse of fear in his friend's eyes. "You're the only one who'd understand, Chuck. 'Cuz only you're the only one who knows the truth about Weapon X."  
  
Logan had revealed to Charles some time ago about the true nature of Weapon X. He thought back to that conversation he'd had with Logan in the hospital wing of the mansion after he'd just returned from his 'incident' with Kurt and Kitty.  
  
  
  
" You have to tell me what happened, Logan. Because of your actions, the lives of Kurt and Kitty were put on the line by your actions." He was serious, and clearly upset.  
  
"If you don't tell me the truth about all that happened, and how they related to your past, I'm afraid-" he paused for a moment, regret heavy in his heart. "I'll have to ask you to leave."  
  
Logan closed his eyes, adjusting to this new revelation. He'd expected it, sooner or later, and frankly, he was surprised that it hadn't happened sooner. "Y' better brace yourself, Charles. What I'm about to tell ya ain't pretty. And you haveta promise me never to tell any of the kids about this. Not even half-pint and elf get t' know the truth."  
  
  
  
"-And in your dream, they said that they'd come for you." Charles stated, summarizing what Logan had just finished telling him.  
  
Logan grunted in acknowledgement. "Somethin' 'bout getting rid of loose ends. Can't remember exactly." He then proceeded to sit down, heavily, on a chair nearby. Running his hands through sleep tousled hair, he sighed. "I've decided, Charles. I'm leavin'. I'm too much of a risk to the kids safety to stay around."  
  
Charles nearly hit himself on the head. He should have anticipated this. Wheeling over to Logan's side, he placed a hand on his arm. "My friend, don't leave. The students need you. I need you. If necessary, I'll tell them about the threat so that they can be on the alert for anything suspicious. I just don't want you to feel as if you cannot stay here and not feel safe."  
  
"Chuck, if I stay here, they might come for y'all." The pain in Logan's eyes was bright and unhidden. "If they kill me, then so be it. Sometimes, I don't care if I live or die. But if they come here, they'll take all of you to become slaves. I can't let that happen."  
  
"That is why you must stay here and keep a lookout, my friend. Only you would know what to look out for. Even if you left, they might come here anyways. Then what would your leaving accomplish? Nothing! Do you understand, Logan? Stay, and help us keep a lookout for these people. And I promise you, my friend, that if you stay, we will watch your back as well. And you know what they always say. 'Many pairs of eyes are better than one.' There is safety in numbers. "  
  
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes, thinking. After a few minutes, he stood up. "Y' convinced me this time, Charlie. But I'm tellin' ya, if I have concrete evidence that they've sent someone for me, I'm leaving."  
  
Charles sighed mentally. This was the best offer he was going to get from his friend. "Very well, Logan. But until you do, I expect you to stay." He watched the retreating form of Logan opening the door.  
  
"And Logan." He paused, turning to look at Xavier. " Do please tell me before you leave."  
  
The only response he got was a curt nod, and the shutting of his study room door. 


	5. Visitations

In The Darkness, A Cherry Blossom Falls  
  
I've been feeling guilty about turning out chapters fast enough, so I'll keep writing. This one's probably gonna be a wee bit long, but don't worry, I'm working hard on getting all those exciting action scenes out. I debated on adding in all those incredibly annoying, immature new kids for this chapter, but decided that to do so would be to unnecessarily drag the story out and give myself a headache (heaven forbid- it's my winter holiday! I plan on having fun, for crying out loud) For all those who've reviewed, you guys have been absolutely fantabulastic. For all those who haven't, yes, you know who you are, you terrible, horrible person, please do.   
  
And as usual, I don't own these characters, blah blah blah.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
On the grounds of Bayville High School, the shrill cry of the bell sounded, announcing the beginning of the first class of the day. Some distance away, a girl dressed in deep green, black and dark makeup that juxtaposed her pale, porcelain skin and her shimmery rust colored hair and silvery bangs broke into a run, cursing at every breath.  
  
Rogue was late for school.  
  
She burst into her homeroom class 10 minutes late, out of breath and uncharacteristically flushed. Noting, and consequently ignoring the look of scorn that the teacher-in-charge shot her way, she calmly took the proffered detention slip and slipped into her seat with as much dignity as possible, chin high in the air.  
  
Detention was nothing. So she would have to walk home from school again. That was fine. She could use the exercise anyways. The image of her two 'perfect' peers at the Institute surfaced in her mind, and she shoved their images to the back of her mind with a few forceful mental gestures and a couple of well-worded expletives.  
  
On the opposite side of campus, Principal Kelly was about to interview a new candidate for a janitorial position on campus that had just opened up. His lip curled with faint scorn at the thought that principals nowadays were reduced to interviewing janitors for a job position. There were so many other things that he could be doing, things like… an image of young Todd Tolansky waiting outside his office to see him once again for yet another offence committed appeared in his mind's eye, and he sighed.  
  
Then again, maybe not.  
  
Psylocke walked through the door leading to the waiting room outside the Principal's office, and walked slowly up to the secretary's desk. The woman looked up at Psylocke, taking in her appearance, the scorn in her eyes obvious. Psylocke was dressed in a set of clean, but old clothes bought from a thrift store she had found downtown. They were ill-fitting and garish, and that, combined with the painstaking effort that Psylocke had taken to streak her hair through with white and draw wrinkles around her eyes, brought the desired effect upon anybody who laid eyes upon her.  
  
They saw her, but they did not notice her.  
  
She immediately got waved into the Principal's office, and from there, getting the job was easy enough. With just the tiniest bit of psychic manipulation, and the most convincing story about her sick mother and useless brother, she got the job.  
  
Smiling faintly to herself, she left the Principal's office. As she was walking out, she spotted some movement behind her, and spun around, quick as lightning, to find herself looking down at a teenager standing behind her. There was a sullen look of rebellion in his eyes, and a rancid smell, like that of garbage, wafted from him.

Wrinkling her nose in distaste, Psylocke turned around and stalked off, scorn in her eyes. 

"Mr. Tolansky! The principal will see you now." Called out the receptionist, the boredom in her voice completely undisguised.  
  
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Pushing her janitor's cart from restroom to restroom and hallway to hallway, Psylocke made her way slowly around the school, trying to get a lock on those mutants that she had seen at the disaster with the mayor and that idiot who had tried to kidnap him. It was only at about 2pm, when she was cleaning the girl's restroom, that she got a lock on somebody in the boy's restroom just next door.  
  
Glancing around once or twice to check that nobody was currently in the girl's restroom with her, she locked the door and headed to the wall closest to the boy's restroom. Stretching out her hand, she pressed two outspread fingers to it, before she closed her eyes and _reached _out- only to collide headlong into the mind of the mutant whom she had sensed.  
  
Wincing, she withdrew and paused, trying to regain her sense of balance. Damn, but this mutant's mind was a mess, a random jumble of thoughts strung together into line after line far too fast for her to catch. So, taking a moment and a deep breath, she paused, and then delved back in, resolving not to let the mind unsettle her.  
  
She got his name. She managed to get his mutant ability. Super speed. That explained his chaotic mindset. She got the address of his current residence, as well as the name of the other mutants he hung around with. She was a firm believer of the phrase "Birds of a feather flock together", and time and time again, her faith in the idiom was proved well founded. Where one mutant was, there was likely to be others. There would be enemies, there would be friends. But they would all be mutants just the same. And perhaps it was there that she would find the one whom she had been sent to kill.  
  
She withdrew to the well-lit girl's restroom. Taking out a pen, she scribbled onto a piece of paper hidden underneath her cart the address that she had just obtained. She would be visiting Pietro Maximoff and his self- proclaimed Brotherhood of Mutants tomorrow night.  
  
For now, there were restrooms to clean.

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That night, at the Brotherhood house, all was quiet. For once, everybody had gone to sleep early- even Tabitha, the wild child who usually stayed up all night partying. The wood house swayed slightly in the wind, the creaking and groaning of the structure as it contracted in the cool night air being the only sound that echoed through the house and its surrounding land.

Down in the yard stood Psylocke, silently watching the house from the shadows of the tall elm tree that grew at the back of the expansive Brotherhood backyard. The white that she had streaked through her dark hair was gone, as were the tacky thrift store rags that she had been wearing earlier. Her chin was held high, all sign of subservience gone, and her dark eyes flashed as she scanned the property.

When she was sure that all the occupants were asleep, she made her move, and climbed swiftly up the elm, long limbs helping her to scale the tree without a problem. She pulled herself onto a solid branch that was hanging on a level with one of the second story windows, and crouched down, peering in the window. 

Inside, she saw the same small teenager that she had encountered this morning in the principal's office snuggled underneath his blanket, tousled dark hair sticking up haphazardly. The moonlight gave his pallid skin a smooth luster, making it seem almost like porcelain, and sleep had softened the hard lines around his mouth, making him seem softer, and more innocent, than what she had seen of him that morning. 

Reaching down to her sash, which was tied over a number of small tools that she had brought along for this reconnaissance mission, she pulled out a lock pick and a small lever, and used this to unlock the boy's window. As she leaned forward to push the window up, the branch shook precariously under her weight. She froze, tensing her body up, worried that she might fall off the branch. 

Thankfully, it stopped moving, and Psylocke was able to open the window without any problem. She slid in, and landed softly on the floor, amidst scattered clothes strewn all over the floor and the same strange, rancid smell that seemed to emanate from the boy sleeping on the bed. What was his name? Tolansky. So he was a mutant, too. Was the horrid smell part of his mutation? Probably. She paused to wrinkle her nose slightly, the only sign of discomfort that she allowed herself to show while on a mission.

Standing up, she crossed swiftly to the teen, and knelt down on the floor beside him. She reached out her hand, and gently placed two fingers on his temple, before reaching into his mind. She searched quickly, scanning his memories for any trace of her target. What she saw did not surprise her much. Her target was not here- he stayed at someplace known as the Xavier Institute. And he seemed to be heavily involved with a large group of young mutants, all of whom he kept calling "the X-Geeks". 

Psylocke frowned slightly. She had hoped to finish this off by tonight. Being a janitor to a school full of teenagers who were sloppier than a herd of swine did not appeal to her, and she wanted to kill her target and leave. 

_And what? _Her subconscious asked her. _Just go on another mission for those men? _She shook her head in frustration. She knew that it was true. Her life was a vicious cycle- kill, or be killed. Live to another day, only to have to kill again. 

Just then, the boy turned around in his sleep, startling her out of her reverie. She pulled back her hand, and dropped silently to the floor, laying flat, so that if the boy were to wake up, he would not be able to see her from his position on the bed. Fortunately, all he did was toss and turn, before settling back into sleep.

She rose to her feet, and picked her way across the room, careful not to touch anything that might create any noise to wake the Tolansky boy up. Psylocke exited the room, and glided silently through the hallway. As she approached the room next to Tolansky's, she found herself hearing a loud roar that resembled a vacuum cleaner, only it came in fits and starts. Placing her gloved hand on the doorknob, she twisted it, and looked cautiously through the open doorway. 

Inside, sleeping on a bed that could barely contain his huge bulk, lay the biggest teenager that Psylocke had ever seen. His mouth was wide open, and to Psylocke's chagrin, a long strand of saliva ran down from his mouth, to drip, slowly, down into a puddle of collected saliva on the floor. Unable to restrain herself, Psylocke let out a stifled groan of disgust and backed out the door, shutting it as quietly as she could after her.

The next room was the speedster's. _Pietro Maximoff_. She thought to herself, looking down at his prone form. She wondered how he managed to survive, sleeping like this, if his heart rate was as high as a she thought it would be. Perhaps he entered a semi-comatose state, the way hummingbirds did when they rested. The speedster's breaths came quickly, deceptively shallow and short. Where was this Xavier Institute? She wondered. For a moment, she entertained the idea of waking the silver haired youth up, eking out the information she needed by threatening him, but she decided against it. He would know that somebody was after the people at the Xavier Institute, and she needed the element of surprise.

She peered into the next room, and saw a young man with disheveled dark hair, mumbling something about kittens. Deciding that this was not going to be of any interest to her, she left him alone, and headed down the hall, towards the very last room. She noted with vague interest that the doorknob had been blasted down repeatedly, leaving only an empty hole where it used to be. 

Bending down, Psylocke peered through the hole. She saw a blond girl sleeping on the large bed that sat in the center of the room, tossing and turning fitfully. She slowly, cautiously pushed the door open, and stepped into the room, long dark hair swinging as she moved. _And what do we have here? _She asked herself. Glancing at the clock sitting on the nightstand, she noticed that it was almost 3 o'clock. She had to get going. 

Reaching out, she established a psychic link with the girl- what was her name? Tabitha Smith. To her pleasant surprise, she'd gotten just what she needed- the exact location of this Xavier Institute. Apparently this girl had 'switched sides', ditching these 'X-geeks' for the Brotherhood. 

Smiling to herself, Psylocke left the room, shutting the door behind her. It looked like this night was not a total loss after all. Granted, she wasn't going to be able to complete the mission tonight, but she had made some progress. It had been especially fortunate that this girl Tabitha had stayed at the Xavier Institute before, because she had alerted her to the presence of highly sensitive and lethal security systems. That wasn't going to be a problem. She always relished a good challenge.

Walking down the steps, Psylocke arrived on the ground level of the shabby, messy house, and walked out the front door, down the street. _Till tomorrow night, then._

_Wolverine. _

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Taadaa!! Yes, to everybody, I know I haven't updated for a semester, but right around the end of last year, I got my first flame, right around the time when I was doubting the quality of my writing. So it hit me especially hard, and I abandoned this project. I think I'm not going to be as vulnerable this time around, partly because I'm a more experienced writer, but also because I want any and all potential flamers to tell me where and what I did wrong so that, if I do suck, then I can do my best to change it so I _don't_. And a polite tone would be appreciated.

But of course, nice reviews are adored, appreciated, and treasured to death. So review, please. I do realize that the first page or so of this chapter was recycled, but I've made some changes, and added the whole last part to the story. Since school has ended, I will be working on this, as well as my interactive fiction, as quickly as I can before summer school starts for me. Hopefully, I will finish it soon. As it is, I'm already more than halfway through this story. 

Next Chapter: The X-Men, and Wolverine, get a visit from a most dangerous and unexpected visitor, and they realize just how greatly they are outmatched by Weapon X's best assassin since Wolverine and Sabertooth. 


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